


ferocactus echidne

by v3ilfire



Series: i have sprayed you into my eyes [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v3ilfire/pseuds/v3ilfire
Summary: For the first time in his life, Jaal had to dance around his own emotions in order to find some balance in two very different sets of social customs. Love was a straightforward and wonderful thing until he remembered that humans were strange and unintentionally deceptive out of sheer embarrassment for their own feelings. The act of just asking Saoirse if there was room to spare in her bed seemed too blunt, but no other solution came to mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> saoirse's a botanist who's Mad About It

Jaal was lonely.

Jaal was _very_ lonely and very aware of how strange his loneliness was, considering its antidote was probably fussing over lab reports in her bedroom. The days they spent together were fantastic, full of wonder and danger and joy, but whenever the sleep cycle on the Tempest approached his mood sank right into void space. For the third night in a row, he sat at his bench in the tech lab and fiddled with new mods for his rifle just to avoid his empty bed.

He just wanted to _be with her_ , but humans made things painfully complicated. For the first time in his life, Jaal had to dance around his own emotions in order to find some balance in two very different sets of social customs. Love was a straightforward and wonderful thing until he remembered that humans were strange and unintentionally deceptive out of sheer embarrassment for their own feelings. The act of just asking Saoirse if there was room to spare in her bed seemed too blunt, but no other solution came to mind.

And it’s not like he hadn’t asked for help. At first, he’d hoped that the other human crew members would have some insight, but despite his promises Liam proved altogether unhelpful in helping him pace his interactions with the pathfinder. Cora was somehow even _less_ helpful, though she would have been a bountiful resource if Saoirse had been an asari. Somehow, this left Lexi as his best resource, so while he had no idea if it was appropriate to ask to spend the night, he had a fairly solid grasp on human anatomy and brain chemistry.

This left only trial and error. On impulse, he tried the comm.

 _“Is everything alright, Jaal?”_ Ah, Ryder. Always assumed the worst.  
“Everything is fine. Are you still working?”   
“Not exactly. Did you need something?”  
“Only your attention, my darling one.” Her silence betrayed her embarrassment, which would be more endearing if it made any sense. Most people would be happy to know that they were being thought of.  
_“Do you wanna… see something? Wait. Sorry. Shit. That sounded weird. I have something I wanna show you. If you have a minute. I know it’s late, but --”_   
“I am on my way.”

Jaal ditched his tools and launched himself out of the lab and down the ladder to the pathfinder’s quarters. Saoirse opened the door for him as soon as he knocked, but did not pry herself from her desk to greet him.   
“Give me juust a sec here,” she said, sitting with legs criss-crossed on top of her chair, cozy in shorts and an initiative sweater, surrounded by empty mugs and a growing collection of potted plants. Jaal tried his best to commit the sight to memory before she turned around and caught him grinning at her like the smitten fool that he was.  
“I thought you said you weren’t working.”  
“I’m not. I’m responding to your mother’s e-mails.”

Now it was _his_ turn to be embarrassed. He had told his mother countless tales of how awkward and easily flustered humans were in general, and that somehow Saoirse was worse than most. He also knew how direct his mother could be when she wanted something. The two did not seem like a good mix for an already … fragile situation.

Surprisingly, Saoirse didn’t stop him from walking up behind her and taking a peek, or from setting his hands on her shoulders and running a thumb idly along the base of her neck. The content of the message was surprisingly innocuous and more detailed in the science of human hair growth than he expected.   
“I told her not to bother you with such things,” he sighed. Fondly, but still.   
“She keeps trying to cook human food. I think I’m gonna ask Vetra to scrounge up some real Earth ingredients and send them along. And … maybe some weapons. Just don’t tell Cora.”  
“She will love that.”

Saoirse gripped the edge of the table and pulled herself around to face him, which was also the first time he noticed the spiky plant sitting in the space between her legs.   
“You think so?”   
“I know so.” She lit up so bright at his assurance that there was no choice for him other than to kiss her, or else she’d have to deal with his _words_. He was already barely withholding half a year’s worth of poetry from her (and had to pay Peebee a heavy fine after she’d found the file open on his terminal).  “You had something you wanted to show me?”  
“Mm? Oh! Right. _Yes._ Totally secret, mostly from anyone who cares about ark cargo weight limits.”

He was a little surprised when she pulled back and held up the spiky plant. In retrospect, he should have expected it from the one who passive-aggressively wore the researcher uniform she’d originally been designated, but he was. It sat firm in a white pot, surrounded by pebbles, and wore a disproportionately dainty red flower at its peak. “His name is King Arthur,” she explained, “because he looks like he has a little crown.”   
“And this plant is… significant to humans?”  
She backed down immediately, her enthusiasm for her big secret suddenly stifled behind nerves. “Um, no. He’s a cactus. He’s -- they’re kind of everywhere, you know? But my mom gave him to me. I guess I never even thought about it before but he’s … all I have left of her. We’re not exactly a _keepsakes_ kinda family. Well, we weren’t. I … it’s just me now. Until Aisleigh wakes up. And then it’s just us.”

Jaal sighed, and decided not to overthink the direct approach. Instead, he lowered himself onto his knees, and took Saoirse’s trembling hands into his own. “You are never alone, Saoirse, not while you have me. Just as I am never alone while I have you.” She gave him one of those warm half-smiles that made his heart _sing_ , and he knew he had to divert her attention again or else he’d be tempted to actually send her some of his poetry. “Arthur is a lovely… you called him a cactus, yes?”   
“Well - a _type_ of cactus. A variety of barrel cactus, actually --  a relative of the _Ferocactus echidne_ , and … you don’t… need to know that.”  
“No, but if it makes you less nervous, then I insist.”  
“You know if you get me started, you’ll never leave.”  
“I … wouldn’t want to.” It was maybe too convenient of a transition, but Saoirse’s only reaction was to lift a single eyebrow and wait for him to continue.  “I may have had a specific motive when I called you.”

Knowing that it wasn’t a detailed lecture on Earth’s indigenous flora, Saoirse twisted her hands in his grip until their fingers were locked firmly together. It was her way of telling him she was ready for whatever he had in store - a gesture she used increasingly often.   
“Okay, shoot.”  
“It pains me to spend nights away from you when we share the same deck on the same ship,” he started. “I would like to stay here, if you would allow it.”  
“Of course,” she said, as if it were obvious. As if anything about humans was obvious. “Make yourself at home. “

There was a moment of stillness where Jaal had to stop and process how _easy_ that all just was, and then he found himself so completely overwhelmed by joy and relief that he leapt to his feet and pulled Saoirse up with him, right into a tight embrace. He felt her fumble to find her footing, but once she did, she returned the gesture, laughing with him all the while.  
“That is fantastic news,” he said, pulling her an arm’s length away once she was stable. “Wait here, darling one. I will go get my things.”

Jaal darted happily out of Saoirse’s room knowing that it was her turn to stand there with the smitten smile, though by the time he returned dressed for sleep, she’d lost her sweater and was fussing with the pillows on her bed. His entrance pulled her upright again, and into the upright nervous posture he was so familiar with.   
“You can uh -- go ahead and get settled, I guess. It’s comfy, I promise. Well, to humans, and I guess the bunks in the crew --” 

In just a few long strides, Jaal crossed the room and silenced her with nothing more than a hand to her chin and a smile. She welcomed the following kiss and only broke it to nudge him playfully towards the mattress with her hip.  
“Want a bedtime story?”   
“Is it like any of the strange tales has Liam shared with me?”   
“Better. It’s a list of cactus facts.”

He laughed, but even if she _wasn’t_ joking, he’d be just as happy. Saoirse kissed him on the cheek before she slid underneath the covers and took her usual spot in her giant bed - left of center, he noticed, which was a bit strange considering she had all that room to herself. It took some clumsy rearranging of limbs and a lot of stifled giggling until they settled, with his head snug underneath hers and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the rest of their limbs a warm, tangled mess, leaving no room for the creeping loneliness of the nights prior.

Jaal was almost asleep when Saoirse shifted just _slightly_ and said, “There are about thirty species included in the ferocactus genus.”


End file.
